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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28282893">Blooming in Winter</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_write_fanfics_to_procrastinate/pseuds/i_write_fanfics_to_procrastinate'>i_write_fanfics_to_procrastinate</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>VerLady Oneshots [10]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Devil May Cry</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Established Relationship, F/M, Flowers, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Post DMC5, Romance, Winter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 23:01:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,141</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28282893</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_write_fanfics_to_procrastinate/pseuds/i_write_fanfics_to_procrastinate</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After his return from Hell, Vergil finds peace in a small garden. But winter comes quickly . . .</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lady/Vergil (Devil May Cry)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>VerLady Oneshots [10]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1971736</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Blooming in Winter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/harlot_of_oblivion/gifts">harlot_of_oblivion</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a Holiday gift for Lottie! I'm your DMC Secret Santa! I hope you don't mind some soft Vergil x Lady ;) and of course, I had to include flowers! :) Since it's a little short I also drew a little something to go with it, which I will post on tumblr ;) Happy Holidays! &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Vergil took a deep breath of the cool morning air, watching the warmth turn to mist around him in the chill of the December morning. It had been many, many years since he had experienced the seasons—spring growing into summer, summer fading into autumn, and autumn withering into winter. </span>
  <em>
    <span>How sorrowful</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He thought, something that he hadn’t ever imagined he would think about the seasons. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Winter comes as if it is starving. It comes to devour. So barren, dark, and lonely. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Feelings that he was familiar with. The thought made him pause under an old maple tree. Winter had stripped her bare of her leaves. She was still gnarled and covered in faded green moss. But the colors around him seemed so dull and grim. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Barren, dark, and lonely… starving. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It reminded him of the past, like a knife to the gut. It reminded him of his all-consuming hunger, the desire to fill the gaping hole within himself—a hole that had been gouged out by tragedy all those years ago. Was this how winter was going to be? A constant reminder of the emptiness that was deep within, still waiting to reveal itself? He glanced around at his little garden that, in the chill of autumn and winter, had quickly become a wasteland. Maybe that </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> how it would be. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In his first spring and summer after returning home with Dante, Vergil had found peace in this little garden. He hadn’t expected such a silly thing to bring him comfort. But for some reason, seeing the plants he cared for grow stronger and taller and fuller filled him with a sense of duty. As if someone were counting on him. And maybe that was just what he needed. It was silly of him to think that it would last forever. After all, even he remembered his mother’s garden. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eva had spent time especially caring for the roses by the window of her little study. They were her favorite flower in the gardens by the manor. She had told Vergil that his father had given them to her. In the warmer months, they bloomed into a rainbow of reds, whites, and pinks. But in the winter they were dull and bare. He could remember asking her, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Are they dead?” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Have patience, Vergil,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>she would respond, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“They’re sleeping. Good, beautiful things come to those who wait.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Now, Vergil moved towards the little house he called his home, and stumbled through the doorway, a blast of warm air hitting him as he caught himself against the wall of the entryway, tears pricking the corners of his eyes and rolling down his frozen cheeks. Tears were something that came easier now. He hated that. It felt pathetic and weak. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The twisting of the doorknob in the front door drew his attention away from his sorry state, and he wiped his eyes gritting his teeth and demanding that his inner self compose itself before Lady’s warm smile flooded his senses with an entirely </span>
  <em>
    <span>different</span>
  </em>
  <span> feeling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Vergil…” She sighed, stepping inside and shutting the front door behind her. She had a few paper bags of groceries, she set them on the counter before turning to offer him a soft smile. He still wasn’t used to the way she looked at him. When her eyes met his, she seemed softer than he remembered. And maybe he was softer too. She did things to him he couldn’t explain. From all those years ago, on the tower, to this… how had they gotten this far? Now, she stood across from him, crossing her arms. “Something’s wrong,” she said, “I can always tell.” Her brows furrowed, and she studied him. “How many times do I have to tell you, you can always talk to me?” She looked indignant now as if she were offended that he hadn’t spoken yet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He let out a sigh and shook his head, “It’s foolishness.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be stupid,” Lady huffed, “Tell me what’s on your mind, Vergil.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He narrowed his eyes. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This woman. So demanding. </span>
  </em>
  <span>But he conceded, “Very well. It’s the garden. It’s empty. It feels so…” he trailed off, trying to think of the right word. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lonely?” Lady supplied. And then she leaned in close, teasing smile on her lips, “Are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>lonely</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Vergil? You only had to say so—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No!” Vergil scoffed. And then he sighed, “It’s colorless! Drab! The whole… </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything</span>
  </em>
  <span>… seems gray.” He glanced away from her, “It reminds me of…” he couldn’t finish the sentence, the thought of Mundus’s prison made bile rise in his throat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Lady rested a hand against his shoulder, “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain.” He knew, just from her warm touch, that she understood well enough what he meant. “But…. I think I have </span>
  <em>
    <span>just</span>
  </em>
  <span> the thing for you, then. I’m glad I bought it, I almost didn’t. They’re in all the stores this time of year.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She turned and reached into one of the paper bags, pulling out something… a plant? Vergil had never seen a plant like this before. It was a vibrant red, with wide petals, and gold at the center. The plastic pot had been wrapped in a shiny green foil of sorts. For a moment, Vergil thought that the plant had to be fake. But he reached out and touched the scarlet petals and realized that it was indeed real and alive. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How… curious…” he frowned. “A flower blooming in winter?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lady laughed a little, passing the plant into his hands. “Lots of things can bloom in the winter, Vergil, maybe you just don’t realize it yet.” The way she smiled at him now made his heart quicken. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Lots of things can bloom in the winter…. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He took in a breath, maybe she was right about that. Not even a year since his return and he was realizing that his feelings for Lady were different… hard to explain… harder still to understand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are you looking at me like that?” Lady laughed. He narrowed his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s nothing,” he said, glancing away, still holding the plant tight in his hands. “Thank you, Mary.” She glanced up at him, and he could have sworn to see a soft flush of pink rise in her cheeks, deepening the color of the scar across her nose. Her mismatched eyes widened and then she smiled softly, reaching out and cupping his cheek. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” she said, “I’ll get you as many poinsettias as you want, just to see you a little happier.” He couldn’t help but return her smile. What she didn’t know was that, somehow, she did that all on her own. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Lots of things can bloom in the winter, Vergil… </span>
  </em>
  <span>her words passed through his mind once more, as he leaned down to kiss her over the plant. And, if the blossoming feelings were any indication, she was right. </span>
</p>
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